All the world' s a stage‚ and all the men and women merly players; they have their exit and their entrances‚ and one man in his time play many parts‚ his act beings seven ages. At first the infant‚ mewling and puking in the nurse' s arms. Then the whining schoolboy,
With his satchel and shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school. And then the lover, sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad made to his mistrees' eyebrow.
Then a soldier, full of strange othas and bearded like the pard, jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation even in the cannon' s mouth.